Jerusalem
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: A collection of soulmate fics. 1-SiriusRemusJames, 2-RegulusLily, 3-PadmaLuna, 4-Hinny, 5-RegulusLily, 6-NarcissaLily, 7-FabianEdgar, 8-Jily, 9-Jily, 10-JamesNarcissa, 11-AliceFrank, 12-Deamus, 13-Romione, 14-Hinny, 15-JohnAmelia, 16-BartyRegulus, 17-NarcissaLily, 18-Scorrose, 19-PoppyMinerva, 20-HermioneLuna, 21-Deamus, 22-TomHarry, 23-HarryLuna, 24-GinnyLuna
1. I like my men (how I like my coffee)

Written for the Speed Drabble (SiriusJamesRemus, justify, "Did you see the news?", 1 hour) and the Romance Appreciation Challenge: You are born with words on your arm which are the first words your soulmate says to you, (setting) hairdresser.

 _Word count:_ 966

 **I like my men (how I like my coffee)**

"James, James, did you see the news?" Sirius asked, voice loud enough as he burst into the room that it almost covered the chime installed on the entrance door.

It was lucky, Lily thought, that their customers were mostly used to the madness that was Sirius Black already, because otherwise she'd be out of a job.

"No, Sirius, I dare say I have not," James replied with an eyeroll. "I'm actually very busy—new client and all, as you can see," he added, nodding his head toward said client, a young brown-haired man who looked like he had seen better days and who's growing confusion Lily could only empathize with.

"You don't work here, Potter!" Mary yelled over the sound of the hairdryer she was using to style a lady's hair. "Go ogle ass somewhere else! Why are you even still here? Lily finished with your hair hours ago!"

"Well, for one, I don't have to justify myself to you, and b, I'll ogle who I want, wherever I want, McDonald!" James yelled back cheerfully.

Sirius cleared his throat, crossing his arms and staring at James pointedly. It was hard to say who blushed more rapidly or prominently: James, or the new client, whose name Lily still hadn't been able to get.

Though she was torn between banging her head against the wall, running away and changing her identity (hopefully that would stop them from following her), and reminding Mary to focus on her work and never engage James again, Lily finally hissed at Sirius to "Apologize! Now!"

It was a sad day for the human race where the sanest person in their group, herself not included, was Sirius Black, but alas, that was their situation at the moment.

"To whom?" Sirius hissed back, eyes shifting back and forth between James and their mystery man. "And why am I even the one who has to apologize for this? James was the one ogling his ass!" he protested, gesturing toward Lily's next client, who was really beginning to look like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

" _Apologize!_ " Lily hissed again, grabbing Sirius' arm and digging in her fingernails. " _Or else…_ "

"Ow, ow, fine, fine, I'll do it, no need to resort to violence, Lily!"

Lily smiled, widely and innocently. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're speaking of," she said, patting at Sirius' arm softly. "Now just _do it!_ "

Rolling his eyes, Sirius muttered, "I still don't get why _I_ 'm the one who has to apologize when Mary and James were the ones who…"

" _You_ 're apologizing," Lily started, tone dry as the desert, "because James is your boyfriend and because Mary is mature enough that she'll apologize without further prompting on my part." She raised her voice at the last part, looking pointedly in her soulmate's direction.

Mary smiled widely and waved her hairdryer at them. "I'm sorry, Mr.!" she shouted cheerfully. "Won't happen again, Lils! I swear!"

Lily seriously doubted that, but well, at least the intention was there. She looked back at Sirius, raising an eyebrow. "See?"

Sirius looked as convinced by Mary's promise as she was, but he shrugged. He put his newspaper on the counter and turned toward the stranger—Sirius was the only person Lily knew who still read the news on actual newspaper instead of on the internet like everyone else. It was a habit he had gotten into while trying to piss off his parents, and to James' constant disarray, a habit he had never managed to lose.

"I apologize for my boyfriend," Sirius started, and then he smiled, showing pearly white teeth. Suddenly, Lily knew that she wasn't going to like what came next.

Spoiler: she was right.

Sirius licked his lips and slowly racked his eyes over the man's body. "In his defense, though," Sirius continued, "you have a great ass."

The man looked so startled it took him a moment to reply. The silence seemed to stretch on forever, oddly potent. "Thanks, I guess. I'm Remus," he finally said.

From the way Sirius' eyes suddenly widened in delighted surprise, smile frozen on his face, those words meant something to him.

From the way his left hand drifted to his right wrist, it was easy to guess what.

"Holy shit!" Sirius breathed. "Fuck. Wow, I mean, are you really…?"

Remus shrugged, an almost shy smile playing on his lips as his eyes darted from Sirius to James and back to Sirius again. "I guess?" He rolled up his sleeve and extended his now bare wrist, and as expected, the words Sirius had just said were scribbled in a painfully familiar handwriting (if it could even be called that), the permanent tattoo a mark of their soulmate bond.

Sirius' eyes, impossibly, seemed to widen even more. His smile, previously stretched thin on his face, eased, softening into something more real as he showed his own wrist.

Sirius' eyes darted to James, who was watching the happenings with rapt attention. "Do you -" He stopped, licking his lips. "Is James your soulmate too, do you think?"

Remus shrugged, but smirked. He unveiled his other wrist. "I don't know, what do you think?"

Sirius peered at the other mark and immediately burst into laughter. "Oh, that's James alright!"

Remus smiled. "Yeah, I thought so too."

This was obviously enough for James, who took this as his cue to join the conversation, and prove, once again, that Lily would never understand James Potter, no matter how long they had known each other for.

Because his first words to his second soulmate—the one Lily knew he and Sirius had spent years trying to meet—were these: "I _told_ Sirius my skills at finding the hottest asses would come in handy some day!"


	2. we don't have to fall from grace

Written for the Romance Awareness Challenge: You can take away some of your soulmate's pain for yourself and the OTP Prompt List Challenge (LilyRegulus, "Everyone gets a second chance.").

 _Word count:_ 850

 **we don't have to fall from grace**

Lily finds out that they're soulmates by accident. There's a fight, you see, curses being hurled left and right, flashes of colored light splashing violently against white shields, leaving sparks in their wakes, but sometimes, sometimes those shields aren't enough.

Sometimes, someone gets hit, either by a curse or by something else, and in the end _what_ hits them doesn't really matter. Sometimes, the _who_ doesn't either, because in the chaos Lily's seen almost as much friendly fire as enemy one.

And maybe that's what makes her freeze when she ducks inside a half-collapsed house and comes upon that fallen Death Eater—or maybe it's his broken mask, revealing grey eyes she knows well, though not on this particular face.

His breath comes in short, desperate gasps, and his lips are pursed into a thin white line, eyes tight with pain. Still, he looks so defiant, daring her to attack him, that for a moment Lily almost wants to laugh, because Sirius always said his brother was nothing like him at all, but this? This was Sirius' stubborn pride on another's face.

She can't see what hurt him, but she knows something has, and yes, this is a Death Eater, yes he is the enemy, but it's also Regulus Black, Sirius' little brother and that alone makes him impossible to hate.

She sighs. Outside the fighting is still going on, but fight or no fight, she knows she could never forgive herself if she didn't help someone who needed it.

She kneels by him, trying to get a closer look.

"What are you doing?" Regulus hisses almost immediately, scuttling away from her.

"Stop moving, you idiot!" Lily hisses back. Her diagnostic spell washes over him painlessly, but he still doesn't relax—honestly, Lily can't blame him. She doesn't imagine she'd react any differently if their positions were reversed. "Do you _want_ to get worse?"

"Might be easier than living through this," he snarks back, but his words have no real bite. He sounds tired, the bone-deep king of exhaustion Lily knows too well, and this time when he tries to move Lily can't help but stop him, her hands steady on his shoulders as she holds him in place.

And of course that's when she feels it. It's an odd thing to describe, and it's even odder to experience. It sorts of is like the world around them goes on mute, everything but the two of them pushed to the background.

Regulus exhales in relief, the tension lines around his eyes softening suddenly and Lily almost jerks back in shock.

She knows what this is, of course she does, but Merlin, it wasn't supposed to happen to her, not now, and certainly not like this.

"I…" She trails off, unsure of what to say. She feels like she's sixteen again, heart beating too fast as she begins to consider maybe allowing James to take her out on that one date.

James… Merlin, isn't it lucky that they didn't work out? She'd hate to consider what _this_ could do to them, to any relationship they might have had.

Regulus' eyes narrow, lips pulling into a thin sneer. "No need to look so shocked, Evans—I can assure you I'm not about to tell anyone about this either." He gestures at the space between them, at the way Lily's hand are now clutching his robes tightly, the fabric bunching up between her fingers.

"It doesn't hurt," she says, a little lost. She'd always thought it would hurt more than this, to take part of your soulmate's pain into yourself. But instead it just feels like an old ache, like she's pulled a muscle or overstretched.

"It doesn't," Regulus echoes. Lily isn't sure if he's surprised or not, but she thinks she can detect some of the same wonder she's feeling in his voice.

"If I," Lily pauses, licking her dry lips. "If I let you go, will you be able to leave?"

Regulus cocks his head to the side. "You'd let me go? Just like that?"

"Everyone gets a second chance," Lily states. It's Dumbledore's motto, and though it's not the first time she uses it, it's the first Lily finds herself wishing she could truly believe it as he does. "Just make sure you actually take it."

Regulus remains silent, eyeing her contemplatively. "I'll think about it," he finally says. "And yes, you can let go now, I'll be fine."

Lily does, almost reluctantly, and is surprised to find that while the ache in her body recedes almost instantly, the pain doesn't seem to return to Regulus' face.

"What – how?" she cuts herself off, eyes falling on the thin, black wand clasped tightly in his hand. She takes a step back instinctively, and regrets it instantly when Regulus' face shutters close.

"I think I'll take my leave then," he says, tone oddly soft. A moment later, he's gone.

The cracking noise of his Apparition echoes in Lily's ears for a long time, but not for as long as his eyes linger in Lily's mind.


	3. suns

Written for Hogwart's Romance Appreciation Challenge, Day 6: If your soulmate dyes their hair, your hair changes colour too, the Twins Weekend Event: Parvati and Padma Patil, and the Love In Motion Event: PadmaLuna.

 _Word count:_ 992

 **suns**

"I just think that it's ridiculous, that's all."

Parvati, sprawled on her bed, raises her eyes from her magazine just long enough to roll them.

"It's really not," she says. "It's actually kind of fun, really. I mean, free hair dye anyone?"

Despite herself, Padma finds herself smiling fondly at her twin's antics.

"You're just lucky your soulmate doesn't go for absurd colors," she says.

Parvati shrugs. "I could pull them off though. It might make coordinating outfits more interesting actually."

"I'm pretty sure anything goes with our school robes," Padma points out. "Also, not my point."

"What _is_ your point then?"

Padma groans, collapsing backwards onto her pillows. "That expecting us to find our soulmate based on the fact that our hair color changes when theirs does is absolutely impossible. I mean, what if they don't dye their hair, ever? How are we supposed to know then?"

"Well, you could always dye _your_ hair," Parvati suggests.

Padma props herself up on her elbow and stares at her sister disbelievingly. "I don't think so."

"Oh come on, I bet you'd like it! A nice blue and silver, to go with your house. You'd look gorgeous with it!"

"I think you mean I'd look ridiculous," Padma says. She likes her hair as it is—dark and smooth—and she can't imagine ever dyeing it of her own free will the way her twin so freely does. Then again, Parvati and Lavender seem to delight in trying to find the hair colors that'd look good on both of them; something that is, admittedly, terribly sweet.

She fingers a strand slowly, twining it around her index, wishing she could be as bold as Parvati when it came to this.

"Well, it's your choice," Parvati replies, shrugging again as she returns to her reading. "But if you ever change your mind…"

"I know where to find you, yes," Padma laughs.

Parvati sticks out her tongue and swats at Padma's arms with her rolled-up magazine. "See if I ever try to do anything for you again, now."

Padma rolls away and only narrowly escapes falling off the bed. "Sounds good actually," she mocks, smiling.

Parvati huffs out a noise Padma can't quite hear. "Whatever."

Padma settles back on the bed, but try as she might she can't refocus on the homework she had been trying to do. Her thoughts are stuck on soulmates, and she can't help but think about hers, and how they might never meet; or if they do, how they might never know what they mean to each other because Padma refuses to indulge in this stupid tradition of dyeing her hair.

Would her soulmate, whoever they were, resent her for that one day. Would they understand? Did they, perhaps, feel the same?

Padma doesn't know, and she can't help but feel a little guilty that, even now, she's not even thinking about considering her sister's solution.

Surely, she thinks, whoever or whatever had decided that soulmates needed a way to find each other could have made it a little easier on them, couldn't they?

She would take anything—well, almost anything—over the dread of seeing her hair suddenly turn some horrid shade of pink or yellow the way she had seen the hair some of the girls in her House do.

 **.x.**

When Padma is nineteen, the was a nightmare she's still trying to wake up from, her hair suddenly changes color. It's not subtle, nor light, but still she doesn't notice until Parvati does a double-take and almost walks into the kitchen's door.

"Nice," Lavender comments sleepily, sneaking past her stunned girlfriend and snatching the cup of coffee Padma had poured for her sister before Padma or Parvati can protest. "Gold suits you," she continues. "Maybe we should try it? What do you think, Parv'?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Parvati snaps out of her daze suddenly.

"The gold in your sister's hair, Parv'," Lavender smiles. "Don't you think it suits her?"

"It really does," Parvati replies, but her smile, proud and soft, is directed at Padma. It makes her heart flip—it's been entirely too long, Padma thinks, since she last saw her twin so unburdened. "Didn't I tell you that? Oh, Padma, I'm so happy for you!"

The hug that follows, while sudden, isn't surprising, and Padma returns it gladly.

"So, do you know who it is?" Parvati asks eagerly.

"I…" She wants to say she has no idea, but…

But she remembers a blonde girl, brave and kind and with a heart bigger than anyone Padma's ever known, a girl who had never been afraid to dream big and tell people what she thought.

A girl who, last night, when Padma's eyes had been starting to hurt from too much reading—who even knew there was such a thing as too much reading?—had dragged her away to a café and ordered hot chocolate and cookies for them, who had talked about everything and nothing until Padma's mind had just _stopped_.

A girl that Padma had been, somehow, steadily falling for during the last two years, and who had only just told Padma that she was thinking of trying something new.

She can still see the scene in her mind: Luna, liking white foam from her lips like it was nothing, eyes dancing with mirth as Padma's heart skipped a beat (or several).

Luna, carefully pushing a strand of Padma's hair behind her ear, saying, "I think yellow would look nice on you—or maybe gold, to keep the Nargles away."

Padma had wanted to kiss her then—had wanted to kiss her so many times already—and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why she hadn't.

"Yeah," she finally says, feeling a smile bloom on her lips slowly. There's something unfurling in her chest too, something light and precious, and it makes her want to bask in this moment forever. "Yeah, I think I do."


	4. better late than never

Written for the Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge: There's a timer on your wrist that counts down to the moment you meet your soulmate, single parent!au.

 _Word count:_ 1331

 **better late than never**

In theory, soulmates were nice and all. Having a timer tattooed on your wrist telling you when you'd meet them was perhaps a bit tacky-and, in Harry's opinion, rather ugly when it zeroed out-but at least it was somewhat useful, a sure what to know that, _yes_ , there was someone out there for you, someone you could be happy with.

However, when you were born with a soulmate timer that told you you would only meet your match in thirty-seven years, well, things tended to take another perspective entirely. While yes, as a child the notion of waiting for his soulmate had seemed romantic, by the time Harry had turned eighteen, it had been heartbreaking instead, leading him to wonder if he was supposed to put his life on hold for that long or try to start one anyway and maybe miss out on his soulmate.

"Dad, dad!" Lily shouted, dragging Harry away from his thoughts. "The pancakes are burning!"

"... That they are," Harry noted with the absent panic of someone used to disasters. "It's fine, pumpkin, I'll make you another."

"For me too," James piped in, as though Harry would forget to feed his son.

Rolling his eyes, Harry scraped the pan and started anew. He was done quickly, thankfully, and soon was sat with his two children.

Two very quiet children, who seemed to be more focused on him than the food they'd usually be devouring. _Uh_ , went Harry's mine, _something's wrong_.

"Not hungry? Cause I can eat there if you don't want them," Harry joked, pulling the plate toward himself slowly.

That seemed to wake them up. "Wait!" "Hey, no!" they yelled simultaneously, their forks banging in midair as they reached for the food at the same time.

Harry laughed as he ended up having to serve them, dividing the food between the two. It was lucky he had already eaten, because knowing his kids they'd have him starve otherwise. "Come on, no need to fight, there's enough for everyone."

They pouted but quieted down,sharing an oddly meaningful look as they did so.

"You really haven't noticed, then?" James finally asked, Lily pointedly staring at him to do so.

"Noticed what?" Harry asked, looking at Lily and James in concern. There didn't seem to be anything different-or wrong-about them. "Did I miss something?"

Lily giggled, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Dad, you've missed something. Look down!"

Harry looked down, and then back up again, seeing nothing worth notice. "Yes?"

"No, I mean _look down_ ," she repeated. "At your wrist," she added excitedly, nearly vibrating off her chair.

"Oh," Harry said. And yes, that made sense, didn't it? He had turned thirty-seven a few months ago, and his countdown would be nearing the end by now.

Harry was surprised to find that he was almost scared to look-how much time did he have left, he wondered. How long until he was to meet someone who, according to everything and everyone, would complete him utterly?

Eleven hours, twenty-one minutes and fifty-nine seconds apparently.

"Well, fuck," Harry said very eloquently.

"Dad! No swearing!"

 **.x.**

Between taking the children to school, making sure they hadn't forgotten anything-heading back inside twice to grab James' homework and Lily's lunch-and his own busy workload, it was honestly a wonder Harry managed to look down at his timer more than once during the day.

It was easy however, after all these years, to push past it and bury himself into his work until the time came to get the kids from school.

To get three kids from school, apparently.

"Did you multiply while I wasn't looking?"

"Dad, come on," Lily whined, blushing, as Harry lifted her up and peppered her cheeks with kisses. "Stop embarrassing us!"

"Fine, fine," Harry relented, setting her back down. He turned to the third kid, raising his eyebrow questioningly. "And who might you be?"

"That's Al'," James replied with a smile, tugging at the boy's hand. "He's our friend. Can he come stay over tonight?"

"Oh yes, please!" Lily pleaded, her trembling green eyes joining James' in an attack Harry had never learned to resist.

"If it's okay with - Al', is it?"

"Albus, sir," Albus replied, scuffing his shoes.

"If it's okay with Albus' parents, then. I'd rather we not get accused of kidnapping."

"What would they do?" James scoffed. "Have you arrest yourself?"

"That could get rather awkward, don't you think?" Harry smiled, resisting the urge to ruffle his son's hair. "Besides, you wouldn't want Albus' parents to worry, now, would you?"

"It's just my mum, sir," Albus replied.

"Call me Harry," Harry said. "And did she agree with this?"

"Err…" The three kids shuffled on their feet awkwardly.

Harry could feel his heart melting, but unless Albus' mother actually agreed to let her son come with him, there wasn't much he could do. "Sorry, kids," he said as he told them so, wincing internally at their sad faces.

"But she was late!" Lily blurted out.

"Yes, and the teacher didn't want to wait for her anymore!" James added, eyes burning with fierce determination. "And, and-"

"-he's our friend," Lily continued, "we couldn't just leave him behind, 'cause you said so - you said friends never left friends behind, Dad!"

"I'm fine waiting, really," Albus interjected. "Mum should be there soon - my babysitter cancelled so she had to drive all the way across London and so she said she could be late," he explained, eyebrows furrowed as he recited what had probably been his mother's exact words.

"Well," Harry started, feeling torn, "why don't we just wait for your mother with you and ask her if she'd be okay with your little scheme then?"

Lily clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, could we?" Turning to the boys, she said, "Say yes, say yes!"

Harry stiffled his laughter, knowing that no matter the kids' answer there was no way he would be leaving Albus behind on his own.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait for long-barely ten minutes later, a taxi pulled in and the passenger door opened suddenly, a red-haired woman coming out nearly running toward them.

She spun Albus in a loving hug as soon as she reached them, much like Harry had with Lily earlier. She only seemed to notice that they weren't alone when Albus squirmed in her arms, asking to be let down.

"Sorry," she said a little breathlessly, tucking back her hair behind her ears. "I should have - thank you for looking after Albus for me," she corrected herself. "I'm Ginny Weasley," she said, extending a hand in greeting.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied, stunned, shaking her hand. "I -"

This was, he believed, the prettiest woman he'd seen in a long time, perhaps ever.

The moment stretched on, the children curiously peering at them.

"Uh, would you mind letting go of my hand?" Ginny finally asked, smirking a little.

Harry immediately did so, blushing. "Yes, of course, sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's fine," Ginny laughed. "I get it." And she looked down at her exposed wrist, and then Harry's, where both timers were still flashing with the zeros of a recently finished countdown. "You probably weren't expecting this."

"I wasn't, no," Harry admitted. "But…"

"But?" Ginny asked, eyes twinkling merrily.

"But I'm not upset that it happened," he confessed.

"I'm not upset that it happened either," Ginny replied in the same tone.

The moment was broken by Albus' whispered, "Are they gonna kiss now?" Lily and James promptly shushed him, but it was too late.

Harry chuckled. "Would you like to come over tonight? You and Albus, I mean. Our kids seem to have gotten rather attached."

"Just our kids?" Ginny teased.

Harry merely smiled. "So, what do you say? Are you in?"

Ginny took in the sight of the three children's pleading faces and Harry's raised eyebrow. She shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

The children cheered all the way home.


	5. we're not broken just bent

Written for Hogwart's Romance Awareness Challenge, Day 8: When you turn a certain age, you swap bodies with your soulmate for one day of the year and the OTP Prompt List Challenge, RegulusLily: (setting) Slytherin Common Room.

 _Word count:_ 737

 **we're not broken just bent (just give me a reason)**

Lily awoke slowly. More so, it seemed, than usual, but for some reason today just felt different. Odd, like she was unmoored in her body somehow, like she didn't quite fit into her skin.

It was probably because she had fallen asleep on her History of Magic notes, she reflected with a groan, reaching out to rub at the sore neck she just knew she would have.

A sore neck that was suspiciously missing. In fact, Lily could clearly feel soft covers on her bare skin when she was rather sure she had fallen asleep on her desk _and_ still half-dressed.

Her eyes flew open in panic, heart racing in her chest. She propped herself up, tugging the sheets so they covered her naked chest.

Her very flat, very masculine chest. _What even…?_

It was then that she remembered the date, and exactly why she had been studying so late: today was her seventeenth birthday, which meant that she currently in her soulmate's body, and he in hers.

Her panic receded swiftly, overcome by curiosity. Where was she, exactly, and who did the body she was currently occupying belong to?

Dressing up was awkward, but judging from the robes she found easily, her soulmate was a wizard too. She couldn't help but flush at the thought of her soulmate dressing up _her_ body—dear Merlin, how had she ever thought this body-swap thing could be a _romantic_ thing?—but thankfully years of living with dormmates who liked to sleep in for as long as possible when Lily would rather get her breakfast and go to the Library once she woke up had taught her how to dress silently, quickly and in the dark.

Which was probably most of the reasons why she didn't realize where she was until she stepped into her soulmate's Common Room and saw green and silver instead of the red and gold she had been half expecting.

Holy crap, how was she supposed to pass as a Slytherin for an entire day?

Luckily though, it was a Saturday and the Slytherins appeared to be slightly more studious than the Gryffindors. That, or like their red and gold counterparts, they were sleeping off their hangovers from partying too much.

Lily didn't really care for the explanation; all that mattered to her right now was that it meant that the Common Room was half-deserted and that no one was in the bathroom she shut herself in.

"Holy shit," she whispered to herself. "Holy shit," she said, because it bore repeating.

She was almost scared to look in the mirror, unsure of whether to hope she'd recognize the face staring ack at her or not.

Both outcome seemed equally frightening right now, but, well, Lily wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. The Hat had deemed her brave, so brave she would be.

She looked into the mirror.

At first, she breathed out a sigh of relief. This new face, with its sharp cheekbones and aristocratic nose, was so different from the one Lily was used to that there was no way for Lily to identify it right away, she realized.

But as she looked closer—looked into those pale, grey eyes, so different from her own but that still seemed awfully familiar—she saw features she thought she knew. A smirk, when she pulled her lips up into a smile. A frown that hardened these eyes from pale grey to an icy, darker color.

It was, she realized, a pureblood's face. Regulus Black's, more exactly, and Lily felt as though her stomach had turned to lead.

This was a joke, surely. A galactic mistake, even—surely her soulmate couldn't be someone so bigoted and, and, and _prejudiced_ as him!

Merlin, this wasn't fair!

But, her brain supplied her gently with, when had she ever seen Black act on those prejudices? When had he done more than linger in the background, face closed off to everything and everyone, a statue nothing seemed able to touch?

She laughed. Going by that, he was at least better than Severus, though that probably didn't exactly say much.

But maybe—just maybe—it was enough to give him a chance.

Just a single chance, to prove to her that he could be better than the monsters Sirius had described his family to be.

One chance, and she prayed it would be enough.


	6. I'd follow you forever if I could

Written for Lexi, who asked for NarcissaLily, and the Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Nine: Red-String-Of-Fate - The red string attached to your finger leads to your soulmate, Squib!AU.

 _Word count:_ 1324

 **I'd follow you forever if I could**

There were days when Narcissa was impossibly glad that she wasn't the only Squib in the Black family.

She remembered the times—too numerous to list—where she had scoffed at the mere mention of there being _Squibs_ in her family (the shame, the horror) when now the same worked in reverse: she scoffed at the thought of her too proud and bigoted family, ignoring and demeaning her as though the magic in their veins made them so much better than her.

Finding out that she herself was a Squib had been a hard blow, and for a few moments Narcissa had genuinely feared for her life. Everything had changed very suddenly, as though one day she was their daughter or sister, but the next she was a stranger, an inconvenience to get rid of.

An enemy, even, when days before she had been a prized member of the family for her ability to see the red threads connecting soulmates (an ability rare enough that it had, for a while, fooled everyone into believing she had magic too); and everyone knew what the Blacks did to their enemies.

So yes, there were many days when Narcissa realized how lucky she had been to get dumped on Marcus and his wife—although she certainly hadn't seen it that way in the beginning. She may have lost the family she had grown up with, but she had gained another almost as quickly, and though adapting to the muggle world had been hard at first, now Narcissa wouldn't give up the internet or phones for all the magic in the world.

Well, maybe not _all_ , but certainly most.

Right now, for example, as grateful as she was for the luck she'd had, she also sorely wished she could do something about her sore feet. It was her own fault, really, for prioritizing fashion over comfort, but still, it rankled to know that a witch would never have this kind of problem.

Of course, a witch would also never have access to the kind of fashion that Narcissa had access to, so it was probably a good trade-off in the end. Or at least she'd remember that once she was back home and soaking her feet in warm water.

This was part of her free days tradition—the very end of it, in fact. Whenever Narcissa had a day where she had no school to go to, no friends to visit or any other pressing matter to attend to, she liked to wander the around London, following the tugs and seemingly random twists of the red twine tied around her pinky finger.

Today, however, was different. The tug, for one, seemed stronger than usual, and the red string that went with it seemed to actually be getting shorter, pulled taut between Narcissa and whoever was at the other end of it.

Her heart started pounding in chest, her strides lengthening subconsciously. Today was going to be her day, she could feel it.

She was so focused on following the thread that it took her a shockingly long time to realize that her steps were leading her in a somewhat familiar direction.

She stopped in front a house she recognized, breath short and heart in her throat. Her thread led through the front door—whoever lived there, Narcissa knew, would be her soulmate.

It was a terrifying thing, to be so close to them. Her hands were trembling, and she felt so nervous she thought she could be sick.

Fortunately, the door opened before that.

"Narcissa? What are you doing here?"

It was Petunia Evans, the girl who had tutored Narcissa for the past two years. Really, it was no wonder the house and neighborhood had seemed so familiar—not only was it close to Narcissa's own, but she had also visited many, many times.

"I…" Narcissa started, trailing off when she realized she wasn't sure how to explain herself. Her eyes drifted to the red thread that now seemed to be fluttering in the air expectantly, and something in Petunia's eyes changed. They grew colder, meaner, and Narcissa's heart twanged painfully in her chest as she recognized the change from years ago, when her mother had looked at her like she didn't deserve to live.

"I see," Petunia said, lips pursed thin. She turned around suddenly and, leaning back inside the house slightly, she shouted, "Lily! It's for you!"

There was a moment of silence, during which Narcissa could see Petunia ready herself to shout again, before a voice replied, "I'm coming!"

Petunia stepped back outside, leaning against the wall. She kept the door wide open this time though.

Narcissa shuffled on her feet. It was rare for her to feel so out of place these days, but this silence between them was very uncomfortable.

"So, err, Lily is your sister?" Narcissa tried, remembering Petunia mentioning a little sister once. The tone had been fond but bitter, but it seemed as though that bitterness had turned into a much stronger dislike.

"Yes," Petunia replied curtly. She looked down at Narcissa's hand—the one where everyone had their string-and odd expression on her face.

"You can see them then?"

Narcissa almost startled. "Ah, yes. Didn't I tell you?"

"You didn't, no," Petunia replied coldly. But then something in her face changed, softened lightly. A flash of something almost like longing, or fear, passed in her eyes. "Do you know if I… If I have…"

"If you have one?" Narcissa finished for her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Of course you do—everyone does."

It was true, too. Obviously Narcissa had no idea where that string lead, but she could see it was there, strong and healthy.

"And it's not _black_?" Petunia asked, tone almost hesitant.

Narcissa frowned in confusion. A black thread only happened when one half of the pair rejected their other half, and as such they were basically non-existant. Cut strings were a bit more common, since they signified death, but they still were rare enough that most people just ignored those possibilities.

"Of course not," Narcissa replied quickly, forcing herself not to let any of her confusion show. "A nice and healthy red, I promise," she added, pulling her lips up into a smile.

"See, Petunia, what did I tell you? You were worrying for nothing!"

The new voice belonged to a red-haired girl dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and yoga pants. She had the greenest eyes Narcissa had ever seen, and there, on her left pinky finger, was a red loop that lead to Narcissa's own hand.

"Hi!" the girl said, smiling cheerfully as she extended her hand in greetings. "I'm Lily. Petunia said you were asking for me?"

"I'm Narcissa," she somehow managed to say. She wasn't quite sure how she could still speak, to be honest. It felt as though the world had stopped spinning, like time had stilled in its course, and every breath Narcissa drew seemed to last forever. She reached forward and shook Lily's hand.

Lily laughed. "Well, would you like to come in? Have a drink, maybe? We still have lemonade I think… And then you can tell me what a friend of my sister's wants with me."

Petunia scoffed, a clear dismissal of the 'friend' part, but Narcissa ignored her. She felt like her heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest. _I want to know everything about you_ , she thought, eyes lost in Lily's. _Tell me everything, please._

Out loud, she merely said, "I would, yes, if you don't mind."

Lily smiled again, cheeks flushing a little. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't."

She lead the way, and Narcissa followed.

God, they had just met and already Narcissa wanted to follow her forever.

Oh well—a nice chat and fresh lemonade seemed like the perfect place to start. Forever, Narcissa was sure, would follow soon enough.


	7. catalyst

Written for Hogwart's Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Ten: You have a mark (can be a symbol/picture/anything you like) on your body. Your soulmate will have a matching mark, and the Twins Event: Fabian and Gideon Prewett.

 _Word count:_ 984

 **catalyst**

The mark on Fabian's left hip tingled when he meets Edgar Bones for the first time, and that's how he knew.

Or at least, began to strongly hope, since without visual confirmation it's actually impossible to know for sure who your soulmate is-and even then it's not a guarantee either, since no two marks are perfectly identical. They complete each other though, and Fabian has longed to know who the flaming torch inked on his skin refers to since he's been old enough to know what soulmates were.

"Do you think he felt it too?" he ponders out loud, fingers trailing over the mark.

"Felt what?"

With a yelp, Fabian startles so badly he trips on his feet and almost knocks his head against the mirror, which yells, "Hey, be a little more careful with your surroundings, boy!"

"Gideon, hi, what are you doing here?" Fabian asks, trying to save face.

His twin just arcs an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

"You've been in that bathroom for almost two hours now. You thinking of coming back out anytime soon?"

Fabian glares at him. "I'm sure it hasn't been _that_ long," he says, but he does leave the room. The mirror is still talking after all, and honestly, Fabian has better things to do than listen to an enchanted piece of glass.

"Sure it hasn't," Gideon drawls as he follows, but he appears willing to drop that matter for once.

Fabian collapses backward on his bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling. Unconsciously, his fingers drift to his mark again.

"Bones, uh?"

Fabian chokes on his saliva. "I- Wait- What, no, how do you…" He realizes it's useless trying to hide anything from his twin, and sighs, propping himself up on his elbows so he can see him. "How do you even know?" he whines, grabbing at a pillow he can use to smother himself. He has a feeling that'll be a better alternative than talking about this with his brother.

 _(thankfully, Molly isn't here as well, because their little sister would never let him live this down)_

Gideon rolls his eyes. "You really aren't nearly as discreet as you think you are. Also, he's just your type."

 _That is very true_ , Fabian thinks, biting back a groan. "It's not just the, you know.." he feels obligated to point out, gesturing vaguely with his right hand to shape a man's body.

"The hot body?" Gideon smirks. "Because from the way you spent the last hours touching yourself I think that might have something to do with it."

"Why are you like this? _Why?_ " Fabian moans into his pillow. "You know that's not what happened-that _nothing_ happened, so why would you even say something like that?"

Gideon simply shrugs, still smirking. "Older brother privilege."

Fabian scowls. "Eleven minutes doesn't count!"

"I was born before you, ergo I'm older," Gideon replies. "Now tell me all about your maybe-soulmate and why you're here mooning over him instead of out there with him, like you would usually be. You're not usually this shy."

"We've only had one conversation, it's not like there's much to tell," Fabian protests; but well, he does actually want to talk about this to someone. "And I'm not shy," he adds, glaring.

"You'll have more in the future," Gideon dismisses quickly. "He's in the Order too, isn't he? And literally nothing stops you from seeing him before the next meeting. In fact, I think you should, if only so that I do not have to deal with you making eyes at him during the entire meeting."

"I do not make eyes."

Gideon stares at him, the _who do you think you're talking to?_ clear in his eyes. "Fabian, I love you, but you always make eyes at the men you're interested in."

"Well, you're not any better when you're interested in a girl," Fabian retorts.

"Nice one, Fabian, very clever," Gideon says sarcastically. "Very fifteen-year-old of you too."

Rolling his eyes, Fabian decides to change subjects. "Anyway," he says, "Edgar's different." He shrugs. "I don't know why, or how I know, but I just do. And I don't want to screw this up."

His twin's face softens. "You're not going to screw anything up, Fabian, come on."

"I don't know. It's not like any of my other relationships have worked before."

"Join the club," Gideon snorts. "Besides, this is your soulmate-"

"-probably my soulmate-"

"-your soulmate," Gideon repeats, ignoring the interruption, "it'll work out."

Fabian sighs, a smile pulling at his lips. "Thanks, Gideon."

"You're welcome. Now just promise me you're going to actually do something about this. And no more locking yourself inside the bathroom for hours on end."

"Yes, _mother_ ," Fabian drawls, rolling his eyes again. "Do I have your permission to wait until at least tomorrow, or should I just leave now?"

"You can wait until tomorrow," Gideon replies magnanimously, swatting at his brother's arm.

"So glad I have your permission. Now could you please leave? I have other things to do."

Gideon blinks, a teasing smirk slowly spreading over his face. "I see how it is… I'll leave you _alone_ then."

Choosing to ignore the innuendo-things always do go so much smoother that way-Fabian shoos his brother away. "You do that then. And please don't come back."

Winking, Gideon laughs and dances out of the way of Fabian's kick. "Have fu-un!" he sing-songs as he leaves.

Fabian smothers his scream of frustration in his pillow. From the still open bathroom door, he can now hear the mirror telling him to, "Go get his man!".

Honestly, his life sometimes.

But well, he remembers the way Edgar's smile during their (too) short conversation had made his eyes crinkle and shine, pulling at something inside Fabian's chest.

Even if they aren't soulmates, he thinks, whatever might be between them would be worth exploring. He has a good feeling about them.


	8. oh (reveal your secrets)

Written for Hogwart's Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Eleven: A potion or blood ritual reveals your soulmate.

 _Word count:_ 519

 **oh (reveal your secrets)**

"Are you sure this will work?" Lily asked, looking at the bubbling cauldron worriedly.

James rolled his eyes. "Yes, Lily, I'm sure it'll work," he replied. "Stop worrying so much-we did much more dangerous things back when we were in school, and nothing ever happened to us. Well, nothing irreversible, anyway," he corrected himself after a pause.

After all, they had all ended up in the Hospital Wing for weird accidents back then, and most of them had been caused by their experimenting for pranks or spells.

"That doesn't exactly fill me up with confidence, you know," Lily said dryly. "I'd rather we didn't spend our first anniversary in St. Mungo's."

"That's not going to happen. This is a very simple Potion, and you agreed we would use it together."

Lily sighed. "As long as I don't have to drink it…"

"You won't. Trust me, I want that about as much as you do," he laughed.

The Potion did look disgusting, with black and grey bits floating to the surface every so often as he stirred it. It smelled even worse though, and James was ridiculously glad that they'd never have to find out what its taste was like.

He stirred it once last time-two turns counter-clockwise then a cross-like movement-and took the cauldron off the fire.

"It's ready," he said, heart pounding in his chest. His hands felt clammy as he wiped them on his robes. "Want to go first?"

Lily glared at him disbelievingly. "James, I love you but it's your Potion. You're definitely going first."

"Love you too," James replied automatically. He took a deep breath and dipped a finger into the sludgy mess.

It was freezing, though not painful, thankfully. He shivered.

Lily looked at him with concern. "Everything good?"

Absently, James withdrew his finger. "Uh uh," he said. "It's fine, you should try it."

Lily wasn't really sure she wanted to-well, more like she was rather sure she didn't need a Potion to tell her that James was her soulmate, but James had insisted. He found the notion of soulmates romantic, and Lily hadn't been able to resist the opportunity to practice a bit of more obscure magic with her boyfriend.

She touched the Potion carefully, slowly pressing her index in. The cold tingled, spreading pins and needles up her arm. She closed her eyes, suddenly understanding why James had sounded so distant earlier.

The books they had used hadn't really said how the Potion would reveal their soulmate, and Lily understood why now. There were no words that could describe what she was feeling, what she was seeing now.

It was like a vision, encompassing all that she was and connecting it to all that James was. Distantly, she could hear herself laugh as she realized this, that of course it was James, that it had always been James.

And somehow, she thought she could feel the way he loved her already, something deep and endless and true.

It was, she realized, heart swelling impossibly in her chest, exactly the way she felt for him.


	9. I will take the sun in my mouth

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twelve: You are born with a place and time on your skin and nothing else.

 _Word count:_ 474

 **I will take the sun in my mouth**

"You know we don't have to keep coming here, don't you?"

Despite her somewhat harsh words, Lily smiles as she sits down on the bench.

"Of course I do," James replies, sitting beside her and putting his arm around her shoulders. "But well, what can I say? This place has grown on me over the years. After all, it's where I met the love of my life."

Lily huffs out a laugh. "Alright, what have you done this time?"

"Can't a husband just be nice to his wife? Why do you always have to question my intentions?" he pouts.

"Maybe if your intentions were pure once in awhile, I wouldn't question them so much," Lily replies, pecking his lips in a short kiss. "So come on, tell me, what did you do, and how mad should I be?"

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

"Nope," Lily says brightly. James sighs briefly. His eyes are bright and fond, and it makes Lily's heart skips a beat, like it always does. God, she's so in love with that man.

She softens her tone as she speaks again, taking James' hand in hers. Like this, she can see his mark, the small black characters spelling out _Royal Botanical Gardens, 3:37 pm_ , a perfect replica of the mark on her own skin. This was the place they had first met in, the place they kept feeling drawn to. Sometimes, Lily wonders if this place and time aren't as much part of her soulmate bond as James himself.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" she says softly.

"I know," James sighs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I just…" He shrugs, licking his lips slowly. "What do you think about having kids?"

Lily startles. "With you?" she asks, regretting it immediately when james' eyes cloud with hurt for a second before he washes it away with humor.

"Unless you have anyone else in mind?"

"Don't be an idiot," Lily scoffs, elbowing him lightly in the stomach. "Of course I don't have anyone else in mind."

James hums softly, body slowly relaxing against Lily's. H doesn't look at her when he speaks again, instead choosing to stare at the flowers around them.

"So? Kids, with me? What do you think?"

To tell the truth, Lily hadn't really thought about it before. Or well, she had, but in an abstract sort of way, like _we got married, kids are next_ , not in a _let's have kids and we'll name them so-and-so and teach them all we know_. But here and now, staring at James' face in this place that means so much to the both of them, she yearns for it.

So she smiles, tucking her head in James' shoulder. "Sure," she says. "Let's have kids."


	10. all that glitters (is not gold)

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twelve: You have a compass on your arm that leads you to your soulmate, Virtual World!AU.

 _Word count:_ 886

 **all that glitters (is not gold)**

This, James thought as he looked down at the compass inked on his wrist, was his favorite thing about the Hogwarts Virtual World. Under his watchful gaze, it spun lightly, the arrow finally settling on a point to his left.

"Soon," he whispered as he resumed his walking, fingers trailing slightly over the compass. "Soon, I'll find you."

And he couldn't wait.

 **.x.**

No one really knew who had created the Hogwarts Virtual World. The game had appeared suddenly two years ago, presented as a mix between classical dating simulators and virtual reality games, with one singular distinction: Hogwarts Virtual World lead you to your actual soulmate through a compass etched on the arm of your Avatar.

At first, James had thought it a joke, but now… Now, a year, nine months and thirteen days later, he no longer thought so.

His soulmate was very real, and he was going to find her even if it was the last thing he did.

 **.x.**

Of course, a world where you only had to keep walking in the hope of one day walking into your soulmate would have made a poor virtual world, and so there were plenty of quests and adventures to fill all the hours James should have spent sleeping.

Which was why, when James actually met his soulmate he hadn't even been trying to follow his compass. Rather, he had been more interested on getting to the treasure kept by the dragon, which would allow him to get enough Galleons to change countries and try his luck at finding his soulmate-as well as fame and fortune, obviously-there.

Unfortunately, he hadn't planned on the dragon being so vicious.

"Get down!" someone shouted. James hit the ground on instinct and rolled away, ducking into a cave, white-hot flames scorching the earth he had just been standing on.

"Thanks!" he shouted back. "But I totally had that," he added with a cocky smirk.

"I'm sure you did," the voice replied with great sarcasm. It came from further down the cave, and James followed it curiously.

The woman-for it was undoubtedly a woman-had short blonde hair so light it almost looked white, and a regal air that James had thus far believed reserved to royalty. She also looked severely unimpressed by what she was seeing in James, if the up-and-down eye flick was any indication.

Still, she sighed. "I don't suppose you're any good with a sword at least? Because now that the dragon knows we're here my plans are all worthless."

"As it so happens, Miss…"

She shot him a dubious look, to which James replied by winking and widening his smile. "Narcissa Black," she snorted, somehow managing to make even that look elegant. The right corner of her lips twitched a little, and James' heart flopped in his chest. _Score!_

"Well, as it so happens Miss Narcissa," James continued with a saucy wink, "I am very good with my sword."

She didn't even blush. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only the pretty ones, I promise," James quipped back. Outside, the dragon roared, and James sobered up quickly, tapping at the actual sword resting against his hip. "But I do now real sword-fighting too."

Narcissa hummed, but nodded. "I suppose you'll have to do then." She extended her hand for a handshake, and that was when James saw it: her compass, pointing straight toward him.

He gasped, and with trembling fingers, rolled up his sleeve to check on his own mark. The compass pointed straight to Narcissa.

He licked his lips, slowly.

"Well…" He paused, not really sure how to continue. He looked up and saw that Narcissa seemed to be in the same state of disarray.

Outside, the dragon roared again, but this time, flames flashed at the entrance of the cave, bringing intense heat with them. James felt like he was cooking in his own skin, and judging by Narcissa's suddenly strained face, so did she.

"I think we should try to get out of here first, don't you?" he finally said.

"That is probably the smartest thing you've said all day…?"

James paused, laughing awkwardly as he realized that he had never introduced himself. "I'm James," he said. "James Potter. And if we die in here, I live in Godric's Hallow in England and, yes, James is my real name."

"Narcissa's my real name too. But we're not going to die in here. I have a plan."

And she looked so sure of it too, eyes a steely grey, that James couldn't help but trust her. His blood sang as adrenaline rushed in his veins. "Let's hear it, then," he said, lips pulled into a wild grin.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, but when she complied, she did so with a smile of her own.

 _Pretty_ and _smart_ , James realized as she explained what they should do. _What luck I have!_

"By the way," Narcissa said dryly as they exited the cave carefully, "I expect a better second date than this."

Heart skipping in his chest, palms wet on his sword, James nodded. "Yes ma'am!"

In the end, the treasure was worth more Galleons than James had seen before, but it still was worthless in comparison to what he'd found before it.


	11. am I breathing… (underwater)

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Fourteen: You can feel pain when your soulmate feels pain.

 _Word count:_ 623

 **am I breathing… (underwater)**

One time, when she was seven, Alice tripped because her right knee suddenly hurt like she had knocked it into a table. The pain had lingered there, sharp and so obviously there, for a few seconds before receding completely.

"That's because it was pain from your soulmate, sweetie," her mother had told her when Alice had said that she didn't have a bruise so _she_ couldn't have gotten hurt.

 _A soulmate_ , little Alice had thought, eyes wide with wonder. A soulmate, just for her. How wonderful was that?

And just like that, the memory of that pain, that earlier had seemed so terrible, turned into something almost sweet.

It was stupid, really. A true child's belief - surely no pain could be truly bad if it came from the other half of her soul.

Surely, this had to be a blessing rather than a curse, like it was in those old stories everyone pretended not to know about.

 _(oh, please let it be a blessing, please - Alice didn't think she could bear it if she and her other half broke each other's hearts and souls like in those stories)_

 **.x.**

There was something different about feeling your soulmate's pain, aside from the fact that it melted away too quickly, like ice in the summer. Your soulmate's pain had a different flavor, something sour and sharp that lingered at the back of your mouth even long after it was gone.

Or at least, that's what it always felt like to Alice. She had used to love it, she knew that much - had loved the way it meant Frank was still there, that this was just another aspect of their lives that they shared.

But now, oh now… Now she was realizing that there was nothing sweet about this pain. Nothing sweet at all.

Because right now Death Eaters were torturing the man she loved right in front of her - were killing him, even - and there was nothing she could do, because his pain was paralyzing her just as well as it did him.

His screams were her screams, ripped out of her throat while she trained, vainly, to reach for him.

"It's going to be okay," she wanted to say. "This'll pass," she wished she could voice, because surely such pain wasn't meant to last. It couldn't. Something would break first.

And _oh_ , but it wasn't the spell.

 _('Did you know,' someone sing-sang from far, far away and much too close, 'that it was possibly to be in so much pain that you no longer felt it? That you got used to it? Did you, did you?)_

It was a very peculiar feeling, losing your mind. It tasted like almonds, almost, and like Frank's last kiss to her lips, telling her the war was over and that they were safe.

It was a different kind of pain, constant but spread out, like being underwater but in too hot water.

"I'm here," she wanted to say, but her mouth didn't work. Nothing worked anymore. The pain was the only thing left, and who could even tell who that belonged to.

Certainly not her.

Certainly not her.

 **.x.**

They say they held Frank under the Cruciatus for thirty-five minutes before he broke. They call him strong, and brave, and they are oh so sad he didn't last longer.

They say Alice broke in under fifteen minutes, that it was because she was hit with more than one curse at once. They call her lucky, say it was a mercy she never saw her husband fall the way he did hers.

But _oh_ , if they knew that no curse had ever touched her, they would say something else entirely...


	12. this is (love)

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Fifteen: You realise someone is your soulmate when you touch them.

 _Word count:_ 469

 **this is (love)**

There was something exhilarating about touching Seamus' bare skin, about Dean being free to trail his fingers on someone else's skin. It made his blood sing in his veins and sent sparks up to his brain, but the _knowing_ \- that this skin belonged to the other half of his soul, to someone who loved him so unconditionally - the _knowing_ was the best part.

"Do you think we'll ever get used to it?"

Blearily blinking sleep away, Seamus hummed and shifted until he was facing Dean, tucking his arm under his pillow and head. "Get used to what?" he asked, yawning.

Smiling fondly, Dean caressed Seamus' arm slowly, watching as he shivered slowly, his pupils dilating. "This," he said. "This whole 'knowing your soulmate when you touch them' thing. Do you think we'll get used to it?"

Seamus laughed, rolling his eyes. "Dean, come on, we've known each other for how many years? Ten, fifteen? If we're not used to it by now, we probably never will be."

He looked so beautiful then, his eyes crinkled up in happiness, that Dean couldn't resist kissing him.

"Ugh, morning breath," he grimaced as he pulled back.

"You knew that when you married me, though," Seamus chuckled.

"God only knows why I said yes," Dean replied, smirking.

"God only know why I asked," Seamus retorted in the same tone. "You're an ass."

Dean pouted, faking hurt until Seamus kissed him again in apology. The familiar sparkles bloomed on his lips, and Dean smiled into the kiss.

"I thought you hated my morning breath?" Seamus laughed, pulling back.

"It is rather terrible," Dean agreed. "You're very lucky I love you."

"As if you'd let me forget that."

"Well, who knows what you could do if I did - I mean, that yoga instructor _was_ eyeing you up quite a bit yesterday, and you know I can't compete with his bendiness."

"Marcus doesn't have a chance," Seamus replied.

"Oh, Marcus is it now?"

Seamus snorted. "Well, that's his name. Besides," he added, trailing a finger slowly down Dean's chest, "I thought that you liked that I did yoga."

"I definitely enjoy the results," Dean said. "But I liked them more before I saw your teacher."

Seamus hummed softly. "Jealous?" he asked, smirking deviously.

"Maybe," Dean teased, pressing their legs together, shuffling closer. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well," Seamus replied, licking his lips slowly, "I could make it up to you."

"Please do," Dean smiled. "In fact, feel free to have your wicked way with me," he said, adding an overly dramatic wink that he knew would have Seamus cracking up.

"Why do I even love you?" Seamus sighed.

Dean thought about replying, but in the end his mouth was otherwise occupied by much more pleasant activities.


	13. I could be all the things

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Sixteen: You share the same talents as your soulmate, Dialogue: "Do you have something to say?".

 _Word count:_ 414

 **I could be all the things (you'd ask of me)**

"I can hear you thinking, stop it," Hermione moans, burying her head in her pillow to block out the world.

"I'm sorry, do you have something to say?" Ron replies, chuckling softly. "Was that supposed to be English? Because all I heard was some mumbling sound."

Hermione lifts her head long enough to glare at him before the too bright light forces to close her eyes again.

"I said, 'I can hear you thinking, stop it,'" she repeats. "It's too early for that," she continues, even if she can already feel sleep slipping away from her.

Ron laughs and kisses her forehead. "You're sure you want me to do that? You know you're usually telling me to use my head more, right?"

"And feel free to do that at literally _any other time_ ," she groans, insisting on the 'any other time' part.

Besides her, Ron shifts slowly, propping his back against the wall until he's closer to sitting than lying down. Hermione groans again, louder this time, but follows him, dragging the sheets up with her.

"Well, what it it?" she prompts when Ron remains silent.

"I just…" He frowns and rubs at his eyes like he's trying to chase out his own thoughts. "Don't you ever wonder how you can know which skills are truly _yours_ when we share them?"

"Is this about me beating you at chess again?" she tries to joke. "Because I told you, if I had known it'd upset you so much I'd have refrained."

Ron rolls his eyes at her. "It's not that - really, that was one of the best games I've ever played. I just… Was I ever good at anything, or is it all just you, because we're, you know…?"

"Soulmates?" Hermione says, unimpressed by his line of questioning. "You know that us sharing our talents means we get more of them, not less, right?"

"I just…" Ron chuckles somewhat brokenly. He looks tired suddenly, and Hermione's heart goes out to him.

"Hey," she whispers, taking his hand in hers, "you're a great man, Ronald Weasley, and you're my soulmate. No one, not even you, is allowed to talk badly about my soulmate, alright?"

Ron's smile, stretching his lips slowly, looks like sunrise. "I love you."

"I love you too," Hermione replies. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of the way her heart skips when she says it - nor does she wants to.


	14. into your eyes

Written for Hogwart's Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Seventeen: You see through your soulmate's eyes, and the Love In Motion Event: HarryGinny.

 _Word count:_ 407

 **into your eyes**

There was something fundamentally different about seeing your own face through your soulmate's eyes, something almost sacred in its grandeur.

Sometimes, though, it was just lighthearted and sweet, even if noticing the double edge of her vision still stook Ginny's breath away at first.

"Do I really have these many freckles?" she asked, pondering on the way her cheeks seemed to be entirely covered in them in Harry's vision. She didn't think she remembered there being so many in the mirror this morning.

"What do you mean?" Harry replied, startled. The vision of her own face flickered and vanished, until all that filled Ginny's vision was only what her eyes could see.

Ginny gestured at her face and their eyes pointedly. "Do you really see me with so many freckles?" she repeated.

To her surprised, Harry blushed a little. It never seemed to make her smile, how Harry never quite knew how to be as confident in his romantic feelings as he was in everything else - of course, it also made her incredibly mad, when she remembered exactly _why_ (and who was responsible) for her soulmate's constant surprise when someone told him they loved him.

"You do have many of them," Harry replied slyly, snapping Ginny out of her thoughts.

Ginny frowned, fingers reaching for her cheeks absent-mindedly. "But they don't _actually_ eat up half of my face, do they?"

"Ginny," Harry said, staring at her with a fond smile as he took her hand in his, "your freckles are beautiful. You could have a thousand of them or none at all, and it wouldn't change a single thing to me. I love _you_."

Laughing, Ginny discreetly tried to blink away a few tears. "Damn you, Potter, how do you always do this to me?"

"I just tell you how I feel, I guess?" Harry shrugged. His smile gave him away though - he knew exactly what he was doing to her with his spontaneous romantic confessions.

"Well, you should keep doing that then," Ginny replied primly.

"I will," Harry promised, eyes staring straight into hers, and _oh_ , she was seeing double again, his sight layered over hers.

She looked impossibly beautiful through his eyes, and Ginny couldn't help but hope that whatever he saw through her eyes when she looked at him, it made him feel the way she was feeling right now.

From his wide smile, she rather thought it did.


	15. your voice is still the softest sound

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Eighteen: You can talk to your soulmate in your mind and the Love in Motion Event: JohnAmelia.

 _Word count:_ 462

 **your voice is still the softest sound I know**

 _You should take a day off. See your niece more than two hours a day - she misses you, you know._

By now, Amelia is used to hearing John's voice in her mind. It belongs there as much as her own thoughts, and in fact, after so many years spent working together, it is often more welcome there than her own thoughts would be.

 _I'm fine_ , she thinks back at him. They could talk out loud, of course - by now, everyone knows they're soulmates so Amelia's rather sure the entire Department just assumes they're sharing thoughts all the time - but for some reason this silent conversation feels more intimate.

 _No, you're not,_ John replies. _Amelia, I can see the bruises under your eyes from the other end of the room. Go home, get some sleep. You'll feel better after that - you deserve a break._

He doesn't send the 'after what you've been through' that she knows he's thinking, and she feels unspeakably grateful for that. Just thinking about it brings back flashes of flames and pain, and that horrible, overwhelming certainty she'd had that she was going to die in her own home.

It had only been thanks to John getting her message that she had survived, but even then she had been told it had been a close thing. Too close, even.

She sighs and shifts in her seat. To tell the truth, she's exhausted - but Voldemort left the Ministry in ruins, and now Amelia has to overhaul an entire Department, which is about as fun as it sounds. She has no time for breaks or days offs..

 _Amelia,_ comes John's voice again, and Amelia smiles.

 _I'm fine_ , _really. Stop worrying about me._

 _Yeah, that's never going to happen,_ John replies, and Amelia can hear the laugh in his voice. It echoes warmly in her mind, and she wants to wrap herself in that sound.

She looks down at her files, words starting to swim in front of her eyes. Maybe John has a point - a small break can't hurt, and she rather doubts anyone would complain about her taking it (and if they do, well Kingsley, their new Minister, owes her more than enough to take care of it on her behalf).

 _What do think about coffee?_

 _In general or…?_

 _Don't be an ass, John, it doesn't suit you,_ Amelia replies sternly, though a smile teases at her lips.

Five minutes later, there's a knock on her door.

"I would love to get coffee with you, Amelia," John says, eyes crinkled up with amusement. She can still hear the laughter in his voice.

Amelia sighs but gets up, smiling. "Well, what are we waiting for then?"


	16. Judas' Kiss

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twenty : When you meet your soulmate, you remember your past lives together.

 _Word count:_ 475

 **Judas' Kiss**

Regulus wakes slowly, Barty's fingers trailing old but familiar patterns on his chest. He hums softly, melting into the gesture.

"Good morning," he yawns, blearily blinking himself awake. "Is that… Arabic?"

"Sumerian," Barty replies with huffed laughter.

Regulus nods slowly. "From when we were… merchants? In Mesopotamia?"

The memories are blurry-the older the life you try to remember is, the less detailed that life is. It is, Regulus thinks, the only kindness this world has to offer when it comes to past lives.

Barty laughs again, a dry chuckle that twists at Regulus' heart. " _I_ was a merchant," he says, still tracing symbols that, once upon a time, Regulus knew as well as the English they speak now. "But _you_ were a prince."

"I had forgotten about that," Regulus realizes. It is a bittersweet sensation: how much has he forgotten? How much of who Barty used to be to him has been buried under the sands of time, to remain forever lost? And yet, it is that forgetting that lets him find Barty in every life and lets them fall in love all over again as though it is their first life.

 _Soulmates_. Such a simple, unfitting word for the way Barty steals Regulus' breath away in every single life he's had, for the way no life feels complete until they live it side by side.

"It's fine," Barty replies, mouthing against Regulus' neck. "I'll remind you."

Later, when they can no longer ignore the day's slow but inexorable progression but have yet to get up, have yet to shed this easy love they share and put on their masks, Barty will kiss his soulmate lazily and say, "I think this might be my favorite life so far."

And Regulus will laugh, because that has to be a lie. "Even with this war going on?" he'll ask, only half-joking.

"Even so," Barty will reply, and his eyes will crinkle with laughter as he'll say, "Besides, at least this time we're on the same side."

And Regulus will think of the way Barty's eyes light up when the Dark Lord orders them the cleanse the world and of the way his own stomach dropped when he realized that their Master had mutilated his own soul, time and time again (had killed his own soulmate).

He'll think of the mad plan hatching in his mind and the words that want to spill out of his chest- _please_ s and _I'm sorry_ s and _We can't let him win when he'd rather see the whole word burn than help us_ -and swallow them back, because Barty deserves this, deserves something that makes him happy, that makes his blood sing.

And so Regulus will smile and kiss his lover's mouth until their lips are bruised, and he'll lie.

"Yeah," he'll say, "at least we're on the same side."


	17. don't tell me it's not about freedom

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness, Day Twenty-One: You have a clock that counts up from 0 until you meet your soulmate and the Love in Motion Event: LilyNarcissa.

 _Word count:_ 335

 **don't tell me it's not about freedom**

"Do you ever think about it?" Narcissa asks, fingers caressing Lily's wrist lazily. They're tucked against each other on Lily's too small sofa, and nothing about this should feel as easy as it does, but even if her legs feel cramped and she has a terrible crick in her neck, there's nowhere else Narcissa would rather be.

The skin of Lily's arm is impossibly soft, but that's not what Narcissa focuses on right now-no, instead her eyes and fingers wander to the tiny numbers inked there, like a never ending count of the time Lily has lived on this Earth. They're mesmerizing, really, and Narcissa doesn't know why she finds this phenomenon so much more fascinating on Lily than when it had merely been on her own arm.

Because the numbers on her own arms stand frozen, showing a number she knows by heart from the amount of time she's seen it that signifies that she's met her soulmate years ago now.

Beside her, Lily shifts, her blood red hair tickling Narcissa's neck. She shivers. "So," she repeats, "do you ever think about it?"

Lily shrugs and hums softly, taking the time to turn over her palm to intertwine her fingers with Narcissa and kiss her knuckles.

"Not really," she replies. "I'm happy with you. I can't really imagine there being anybody I'd fit with better than I fit with you." She laughs a little, shrugging again. "Funny, isn't it?"

Narcissa breathes out a sigh of relief, a soft smile stretching her lips. "Well, my sisters always told me I was the selfish one."

"Selfish?" Lily asks curiously.

"Yes," Narcissa nods. "What else would you call this? Us defying the universe, ignoring our soulmates to be together?"

Lily chuckles and presses a kiss against Narcissa's temple, urgent and warm. "I'd call it _love_ ," she replies, her lips stretching into a smirk against Narcissa's skin. "Wouldn't you?"

"I would," Narcissa says, heart skipping a beat. "I really would."


	18. best friends

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twenty-Two: You meet your soulmate in your dreams, [Dialogue] "I'll miss you when I wake up!" and the Love in Motion Event: Scorrose.

 _Word count:_ 563

 **best friends**

"I'll miss you when I wake up," Rose sighs. She's laid out on the grass under her favorite tree, arms and legs spread wide. Scorpius' position mirrors her own, and though he's holding himself much more stiffly, his smile is relaxed as he stares at Rose.

"You won't remember me when you wake up," Scorpius snorts.

"I don't need to remember you to miss you," Rose retorts. It's true, she knows it is. After all, here, in these dreams, she can remember everything that happens when she's awake - so she knows that even when she can't remember a single fact about her soulmate, she still misses him, misses this easy relationship they have despite everything in this world pointing out otherwise.

"Getting sappy on me, Weasley?"

Case in point: he's a Malfoy, she's a Weasley. She remembers the first time they realized that - how they refused to talk to each other for months, refused to look at one another for longer still - and how it had seemed like a cruel joke on the universe's part.

Rose sticks out her tongue at him, but she's not really offended. "Well, you're my best friend." _My soulmate_ , she doesn't say, because this isn't really something they talk about, for all that they both know it to be true. But _knowing_ and actually acknowledging it out loud are two very different things, and they're not there yet.

Actually _saying_ that Scorpius is her soulmate would give the world a meaning Rose isn't sure she's ready for - she's seen soulmates couple, how disgustingly romantic they always seem to be.

She's young still, she knows - not yet of Hogwarts age in fact - but she's old enough to know what she wants; and she doesn't want the romance stuff, or the kisses (unless they're on the cheek, because those can be _nice_ ). She wants the hand-holding though, and the constant presence at her side, and the knowledge that someone will always, always stand by her side.

So for right now, they say they're best friends instead of soulmates, because it fits best with what they feel.

"Think we'll still be best friends in the real world?" Scorpius asks. He's grinning smugly, but Rose knows him too well not to see the real question hidden behind the false bravado. "When you get to Hogwarts?"

 _(sometimes, Rose thinks Scorpius could make Gryffindor proud - though she knows better than to tell him that)_

"Duh," Rose says, because that's not even a question. "As long as you're not, like, a jerk, we'll be fine. And I mean, my dad's an idiot sometimes but my mother still likes him, so I think you're safe."

Scorpius pulls a funny face, looking torn between laughter at Rose's dry delivery and disgust at getting compared to Rose's father.

"I promise I'll try not to be a jerk, then," Scorpius huffs.

"And I promise I'll try to give you a chance even if you are."

These might as well be empty promises, since they won't be able to remember ever making them - soulmate dreams carry over real impressions so rarely after all - but Rose believes in them anyway.

And who knows? Maybe she'll believe in them hard enough that they'll come true anyway. After all, that would hardly be the craziest thing to happen in the magical world.


	19. from your soul to mine

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twenty-Three: You're more powerful when you meet your Soulmate.

 _Word count:_ 549

 **from your soul to mine**

"You shouldn't work so much, Poppy."

As always, Minerva's concerned voice came as a surprise to her. Not because Poppy wasn't used to her soulmate's concern, but because Minerva ad this way of sneaking up on her, her steps as soft as the ones of the cat she could turn into.

Or perhaps she got too lost into her work to properly notice her surroundings. Both reasons seemed equally probable.

"I'm fine, Minerva," Poppy replied, smiling lightly. She turned away from her patient for a moment, taking Minerva's hand in hers for a moment. "They need me more than I need rest right now."

"You always say that," Minerva scoffed. "Aren't there any other Healer they could crawl to?"

Poppy had to smother a chuckle. "I always say it because it's always true. And this is war - every other Healer out there is surely as busy as I am, or they're not doing their job properly."

Minerva frowned, but one pointed look at their surroundings - row after row of sick and injured people, moaning in pain and begging for treatment Poppy could only hope she wouldn't be too late to administer - had her swallow back her retort.

She sighed. "At least draw on my strength," she said. "I have more than enough to spare for you."

She reached out, uncharacteristically hesitant, her fingers hovering inches over Poppy's skin. "Please," she begged, "I can't stand to see you suffer like this."

"You'll need your strength if they come back," Poppy pointed out reluctantly, leaning away from the touch she yearned for. "You're the best fighter we've got, Minerva - we can't have you collapsing in the middle of a battle."

 _We'd be dead, or as good as_ , she doesn't say, but from the grim way Minerva purses her lips, she doesn't have to.

"I'll be fine," Minerva insisted. "We've done more on less, remember?"

Poppy smiled. Oh, she remembered all right. How could she ever forget? She had only met the love of her life on that day - her soulmate, the one woman who made her stronger just by being there.

"Just for a few moments, then," Poppy relented, both hating and relishing in how the mere perspective of what they were about to do sent her heart racing through her chest.

You'd think she'd have learned not to react that way by now - years spent by Minerva's side, and still one smile or one touch threatened to undo her. It was exhilarating.

Minerva nodded, clearly unhappy. She knew Poppy too well to think she'd ever get a better answer though.

"Just for a few moments," Minerva echoed, oddly solemn as she clasped Poppy's hand in hers.

It was different from earlier. That had just been a gesture of comfort, of affection. _This_ , however, was something entirely different. Something sacred, almost, and by the gods Poppy never wanted to let go. She wanted to lose herself in this, knowing that the strength filling her veins was Minerva's - that _she_ was Minerva's, their essences linked in a much deeper way than anything else in the world could ever accomplish.

It was over too soon, but that was fine. As long as they both lived, they would be doing this again.


	20. your words made a flower bloom

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twenty-Four: Anything you write on your arm appears on your soulmate's arm, (color) sea green.

 _Word count:_ 460

 **your words made a flower bloom in my chest**

 _Do you think the grass is really green or do we only see it as such? And what about the sky? Is it really blue, do you think?_

For once, Hermione almost smiles as her soulmate's sea green scrawly handwriting serpents up her arm. The girl on the other end - Luna, she's called - seems a bit mad, and once they meet properly Hermione's rather sure her own rational personality will clash with the other girl's more creative mind, but at least she's never boring.

Which means that Hermione's life is never boring - that it hasn't been since her soulmate went from poor scribbles to nicer drawings (always of mystical beasts, for some reason) and then switched back to a poor handwriting that progressively turned flowery as the years passed.

She doesn't answer often - never seems to know what to say, unlike her soulmate who writes and scribbles nothings over her body whenever she likes (when she was younger, Hermione used to resent the way her skin was always covered in sea green markings in another's handwriting; but now she can't imagine her life without them, and she doesn't want to) - but this time she wants to.

As she uncaps her pen, not for the first time (and not the last either), Hermione wonders which color her handwriting shows up in on Luna's skin.

She hopes it's a pretty color. Gold, she believes, would suit Luna well. Hermione can almost see it: golden words, shining on fair skin in the sunlight.

It would be far more beautiful than Hermione's own lingering green markings, and Luna deserves all the beauty in the world.

 _The sky isn't really blue_ , Hermione writes carefully, ink sliding smoothly on her skin. _It only seems that way because light scattering makes it look blue._

It's a bit more complicated than that, but well, if Hermione starts discussing physics now, she'll run out of skin to write on long before she's done.

She doesn't have to wait long for an answer: sea green blooms under her eyes, painting a picture of a girl smiling widely.

For some reason, it makes Hermione smile stupidly too, fingers hovering over the new mark lightly.

And for the first time, instead of putting her pen down, Hermione presses it against her skin again, heart pounding in her chest.

She doesn't even notice what she's written until she's done, black script still wet on her arm reading, _Do you want to meet someday? Soon?_

The answer is instant, or as close as. _Yes_ , followed by too many exclamations points to count.

Hermione doesn't think she could stop smiling even if she wanted to. And god, she doesn't want to.


	21. I know you'll understand

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twenty-Four: Your soulmate mark is only half complete and it completes itself when you spend time with your soulmate.

 _Word count:_ 431

 **I know you'll understand**

One morning, over breakfast, Seamus asks him, "What do you think it'll look like when it's finished?"

Dean startles badly, nearly spilling his bowl of coffee (as though a mug would be enough to wake _him!_ ).

"What do you mean?" he asks, gaping ungracefully, stifling a yawn and trying to force himself awake.

"Our mark," Seamus explains, tugging at his collar to show his soulmark. The uncomplete flames inked there are as familiar to Dean as his own name, and as always, his fingers itch for the means to complete their mark, be it on paper or skin.

"No idea," Dean replies cheerfully, shrugging. "Isn't that half the fun, though? Not knowing what it'll look like, figuring it out day after day?"

Seamus rolls his eyes. "Of course you'd think that. You like the suspense," he says, spitting out _suspense_ like it's a dirty word.

Dean just smirks. "The suspense just makes the ending that much sweeter. Besides, I like knowing you're too curious to leave me until our mark is complete."

Seamus laughs. "Please, as though I could ever leave you. You'd probably drag me back kicking and screaming."

"I'm not the violent one in this relationship," Dean says pointedly, blowing on his coffee. "I'd just remind you that your mother said she'd disown you if you ever left me."

Seamus pouts, but he doesn't deny it. "You know, it's really unfair that my parents like you so much.

"I am their favorite son," Dean confirms smugly.

"You're not actually their son, though," Seamus says, with a glare that has no heat.

Dean swallows hard. His next words rasps in his throat like knives, and his hands tremble a little. "I could be, though."

Seamus blinks, taken aback. Dean can see the cog turn in his mind, and the way he freezes when his soulmate realizes what Dean is-or isn't-asking.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you mother keeps asking me when I'll make an honest man out of you; and even if I keep telling her that that wouldn't be possible, she does have a point."

Seamus stares, lips twitching into a smile. He frowns, waving his spoon in Dean's face. "This better not be your actual proposal-I expect something much better than that."

Dean laughs. "Alright, then. I'll try to plan something worthy of you."

"You'd better," Seamus mumbles, but his smile is so wide it threatens to split his face open.

Dean huffs out another laugh but he returns to his coffee. And in his mind, he starts to plan.


	22. future looks good

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Twenty-Six: Only your soulmate can kill you.

 _Word count:_ 542

 **future looks good**

There are whispers, in the orphanage.

 _Riddle is weird. Riddle is a freak. Riddle's a monster, don't talk to him, don't trust him._ It's funny, really, how much they fear him, how easily Tom acquired that fear and built upon it.

They whisper when they think he can't hear them, when they think they're safe, but the truth is, they're never safe. One day, when he grows bored enough or angry enough, Tom will delight in teaching them that.

So really, he doesn't mind the whispering.

Or, well, most of it. Nearly all of it, in fact, except for that one nasty rumor he just can't seem to squash, that twists at his inside for some reason he just can't comprehend.

He hears it even when he's alone, mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

 _I bet Riddle doesn't even have a soulmate - who could ever want_ that _for a soulmate?_

A soulmate. The one person in the world whose soul is supposed to match his, who will know everything about him.

The only person who would ever be able to kill him. His one true weakness.

Maybe, he tries to convince him, maybe it's better if he really doesn't have one. Because then he'd truly be invincible, wouldn't he? Untouchable, a god above everyone else, and wouldn't that be just perfect?

And maybe, maybe if no one can kill him, then that would mean he never has to die, that he would never fade, never be _nothing_ again. Because Tom Riddle is really tired of being _nothing_.

He can't wait for his opportunity to show the world that he can be _something_. That he can be everything.

 **.x.**

Then comes the Prophecy, because of course there's a Prophecy, and it says _the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches_ , and Tom laughs and laughs. Or rather, Voldemort does.

Tom Riddle has been dead for a long time already, Lord Voldemort rising from his ashes. And Lord Voldemort has no need for a _soulmate_.

Because it's so terribly obvious that this is what this Prophecy advertises, and it's funny because for decades now he's been safe. For decades now, he's known his soul stood alone, if somewhat broken up in his path to true immortality. And now, some unborn kid wants to change that, wants to challenge him - wants to _kill_ him?

It's like the world itself is giving him a gift, he realizes, still laughing as Snape, who just told him the news, recoils from him.

The one person who can kill him, at his mercy. The one person he'll never have trouble killing, young and vulnerable and entirely defenceless.

Yes, the world is giving him a gift. The greatest gift there could ever be.

And well, should he change his mind, he can raise the kid to follow him. Not as his successor, for why would he ever need one? but as an equal.

Either way, he's won this war already. Who would have thought his soulmate would be so useful to him in the end?

Certainly not him, but now that he knows, he can't forget it. The future is bright and oh so interesting.

Yes, the future looks to be fun.


	23. Colors

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Thirty: A mix of all: A world where everyone finds their soulmate in a different way.

 _Word count:_ 955

 **Colors**

Luna was sitting at her favorite table in her favorite coffee shop and enjoying her hot chocolate when a voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"What do you think your soulmark will be like?"

The question was one Luna was used to by now, as sudden and unexpected as it was this time, but somehow this time it felt different. It brought back memories of being a child and hearing it for the first time. For a moment, she closed her eyes and let the memory take her over.

 _Luna stilled, at little startled at the question. Beside her, Ginny just looked at her expectantly, the summer breeze blowing through her red hair gently._

" _I mean, isn't it weird, not knowing what it is already?" Ginny seemed to take Luna's stunned silence for offence because she apologized immediately, looking very contrite._

" _It's fine," Luna finally said. She looked up at the sky - blue with a few white clouds slowly drifting around today - and sighed, before crossing her legs and plopping down to the ground. The grass was still somewhat wet from the morning's dew, but Luna didn't mind. "And I guess I… don't… know?" she answered, shrugging a little._

 _Ginny sat down in front of her eagerly. "Yeah, but don't you wanna know? Like our parents do? Like I know?"_

 _Again, Luna shrugged. "I'll know when I meet them. Isn't that how it usually happens?"_

 _Ginny bit her lip and wriggled her hands on her lap. "Yeah, but… I mean, you don't know what'll happen, not like I do."_

 _Ginny saw the world in black and white, and she already knew that she'd get colors only when her eyes met her soulmate's. That particular soulmark was very well documented, as was her parent's, who had been born with each other's name on their skin. Luna's own parents, too, had had a rather common soulmark: twins sunflowers inked on their shoulders._

 _If not for the fact that everyone had a soulmark, it would have been thought that Luna had no soulmate. She didn't hear her soulmate's thought in her head, nor did she have any mark on her skin that could help her identify them._

" _I don't want to know what'll happen though," Luna finally replied. She smiled, a small upturn of her lips that widened at Ginny's confusion. "It would take all the fun out of it, don't you think?"_

 _Ginny frowned. "I… guess." She shrugged. "If it's fine by you, it's fine by me - but still, what do you think it could be? You know, hypothetically."_

 _Luna looked at her hands, humming lightly a tune she didn't remember the words to. "It would be nice, maybe, if we, like, changed each other when we met. You know, like in those stories where your soulmate leaves their marks on you?"_

 _Ginny nodded, smiling eagerly. "That'd be cool," she agreed. What Luna had described was basically what would happen to her when she met her soulmate, after all. It was a shame they didn't share the same soulmark - Ginny didn't know anyone who understood what it was like to see the world in shades of grey the way she did - though Ginny had to admit that Luna would probably be miserable without colors in her life._

 _She shook her head, trying to dismiss those thoughts. "So, what kind of mark do you think they'd leave?" she asked teasingly._

 _Luna laughed. "I don't know," she shrugged. "And no, I don't think I want to know. I like the mystery of it, you know."_

" _Alright," Ginny said. "I won't ask then. But you have to promise to tell me when it happens, right? And I'll tell you about who gives me my colors."_

" _I promise," Luna said solemnly._

" _Pinky swear?"_

" _Pinky swear," Luna confirmed._

 _They both laid back after that, staring up at the clouds, and stayed there until their mothers came to drag them away for lunch._

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" the man's stuttering voice dragged Luna out of her reminiscing. Mere seconds had passed, undoubtedly, but still it had felt longer.

"It's fine," Luna replied. "You can ask, I don't mind."

"Still," he continued, cheeks flushed red, "it wasn't fair of me to start off a conversation by asking that. I'm Harry, by the way, Harry Potter. I'm friends with-"

"-Ronald, yes, he mentioned you," Luna said.

"And he and Ginny mentioned _you_ ," Harry replied. "So I thought I should, you know, introduce myself?"

"Ginny's playing matchmaker again, isn't she?"

Harry laughed sheepishly. "I'm sorry. How did you guess?"

"She's been doing this for a long time," Luna replied with a fond smile, gesturing at the space between the two of them. "Introducing me to-"

"-people without obvious soulmarks?"

"Yes," Luna confirmed.

"I think it's a family thing. Their mother keeps doing the same to me," Harry chuckled, looking decidedly more at ease now. He shifted on his feet. "Do you mind if I…?" he asked, gesturing at the second chair at her table.

Luna shook her head. "Go ahead."

Conversation flowed easily after that, their earlier awkwardness forgotten.

It was only as they got up to leave that their finger grazed each other, and _it_ happened.

It was only a slight tingle at first, easily dismissable, but that tingle grew into an itch almost painful. And there, right in front of their eyes, color bloomed on the point of contact, acid green on her skin and bright gold on his.

Harry stepped back almost drunkenly, eyes wide with wonder, and stumbled violently against his chair, barely managing not to fall by grabbing at the table.

"Oh," Luna said, and then she smiled and that was that.


	24. smile

Written for Hogwarts' Romance Awareness Challenge, Day Nineteen: Creature mates.

 _Word count:_ 534

 **smile**

"You'll know them when you meet them," Luna's mother had always used to say when Luna wanted to know how she'd recognize her mate, the one living soul meant to complete hers. Pandora would brush Luna's blonde hair carefully, and wistfully say, "I knew that your father was mine instantly. There's no feeling quite like it in the world, you'll see." And then she'd let Luna turn her head to face her and she'd kiss her daughter's forehead softly.

Luna hadn't really believed it until now. After all, her creature side was easily concealable - or most of it was anyway. It was impossible to hide her otherworldly eyes, of course, but as a banshee Luna's powers only acted up around dead bodies or imminent deaths.

Which is why she doesn't expect it at all, when the pretty redhead girl sits in her compartment and her heart starts beating faster.

It feels like a disease, like she's sick almost. Her mother never mentioned that - never said anything about the way Luna's blood would turn hot in her veins, the way her muscles would spasm on their own and how her hands would reach to hold someone she's never met or touched before.

It builds fizzles in her stomach and bubbles up her lungs, builds itself up in her throat until it scratches at the back of her throat like she's holding a million spiders inside her. She may have only felt this once before - this urge to scream out a name, to herald a death (and Merlin, hadn't that been terrible, knowing in advance that she would never be able to save her own mother?), but it's different this time around.

This scream, this announcement she's trying so hard to swallow back up, it's not a sign of death - at least not an upcoming one. It's something else entirely.

This is what her mother had told her about, in what now feels like another lifetime.

"Hi, I'm Ginny Weasley," the girl says, smiling shyly. She shifts on her feet and puts on a smile that makes Luna want to smile back. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Luna shakes her head and gestures at the free seats wildly, not trusting her own voice not to betray her right now. _Ginny Weasley_. The name suits her somehow, and Luna's already imagining how it will taste in her mouth, how it'll probably roll right of her tongue. Would it really ring as clearly in the air as she thought it would, as the build up in her throat would suggest?

Only one way to find out, she supposes.

"Hi Ginny Weasley," she says, and _oh_ , those words are everything to her, she can already tell, "I'm Luna Lovegood. I think we're going to be great friends."

"Really?" Ginny asks, in equal parts bewildered and enthusiastic. "You think so?"

Luna smiles widely and reaches forward to take Ginny's hand in hers. "I know so," she states, because if there's one thing she knows, it's that from this day forward, she'll fight to stay at Ginny's side no matter what.

That she'll do anything to keep Ginny smiling the way she is now.


End file.
